


Naked Truth

by lysanatt



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Exhibitionism, Fluff, M/M, Rough Sex, Up-against-the-wall-in-a-public-bathroom-sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 18:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysanatt/pseuds/lysanatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha has been Jensen's dirty little secret for years. However, Jensen finally realizes that not everything has to stay conveniently covered by a thin layer of denim and decency.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naked Truth

**Author's Note:**

> This was written because of _[reasons](http://lysanatt.tumblr.com/post/60348458422/supermishamiga-misguidedhunter67-replied-to#tumblr_notes)_

**Naked Truth**

The fabric of his jeans slides roughly against Jensen's dick and he ignores it, for now. He smiles broadly at the audience, covering up his incoherent reply with a flash of white teeth and charm. He lowers the mike for a second, leaning in to whisper a few words in Misha's ear, a few syllables that will set Misha aflame. Jensen isn't that much into games. But this one he likes.

"I'm not wearing any underwear," he whispers, his lips brushing over the shell of Misha's ear. "I want to be ready for you."

Luckily Misha remembers to move his microphone too, because the moan he makes is obscene. "Jen... You can't do that to me," Misha groans. "Fuck."

"Yes, please." Jensen smiles, turning away for a second, from the hundreds of people, watching them. A shark would look meek compared to the grin Jensen sends his lover. "As soon as we're done."

Misha groans again, tormented, before he laughs and faces the fans. "You wouldn't want to know what Jensen just told me," Misha says, this time speaking into the microphone, playing with their fans. "He's wicked!"

The audience laughs and whistles. Misha is teasing and playing them—or so they think. Jensen watches, unable to keep the smile off of his face as Misha continues bullshitting the fangirls. Jensen lets himself be seduced by Misha's craziness. Misha's teasing is like the thin fabric rubbing against his hardening cock: a thin layer covering up what is really happening just below the surface. _If you only knew_ , Jensen thinks, adjusting himself discreetly, disguised by the jacket he conveniently brought with him on stage. There's a wet spot where the tip of his dick is rubbing against the increasingly stretched denim. Yeah, it arouses him, this thin membrane between decent, straight actor Jensen Ackles and the creature he is underneath the veneer of proper Hollywood behavior. It arouses him to let his toes slide against and never over the fine line between acceptable and unacceptable, between Texas-bred and the man he is now, transformed by Misha.

Shifting in the chair, Jensen has to get a grip as not to moan loudly when the sensitive head of his dick rubs against the waistband of his jeans. Thank God that the panel is coming to an end, because five more minutes, it'll be Jensen who comes. He's so hard now, knowing what will happen as soon as they're off stage, knowing that Misha's probably erect, too, thinking of nothing but him. How Misha is able to flirt and tease his way through the last minutes before Ty and Rick take over is amazing. Jensen barely manages to say a few coherent words and smile his professional 100 Watt smile, at the same time making sure that he has covered himself up as not to flash the gigantic hard-on he's sporting. 

A quick, awkward hug from Rick and Ty, and they're off. Jensen heaves a deep, relieved sigh. "Bathroom," he tells Clif. "Too much Coke."

"Yeah, me too." Misha grabs Jensen's hand and pulls him towards the men's room. Clif's going to keep the fans out, at least the female ones. "Back in five."

Clif doesn't know about them. Nobody knows. Of course nobody knows. Which means that they can get away with it, letting Jensen indulge in his dance on the edge of a knife.

\- 0 -

There is nobody else there, in the marble-tiled room—one of the blessings of having a mainly female following. Misha doesn't hesitate. Jensen catches a glimpse of something needy and ruthless in the way Misha looks at him, only a second before he is slammed up against the wall, Misha's body pressing against him, holding him there, immovable and hard.

"If someone-"

"-comes in. I know." Misha snatches Jensen's sentence and finishes it the second before he leans in, biting at Jensen's neck. "Nothing visible. I know." Misha sucks lightly at Jensen's skin, enough to make him worried that Misha is making a mark. "Nobody can know. I _know_ ," Misha growls loudly and cups Jensen's dick a bit too roughly.

Jensen whines, mewls as Misha manhandles him, and he can't stop himself from grinding against Misha's hand because this is exactly what he needs. 

"Funny how you're like one millimeter from being naked on stage," Misha whispers, "and now you're all nervous that someone is going to find out what a naughty little boy you are, taking my cock so good."

Jensen swallows. Misha's right. He takes everything Misha dishes so good, and he wants it so very, very bad. He wishes it was possible for him to just let go, let everything out in the open, everything except for his dick, of course, that one belongs to Misha only. Jensen is not _that_ much of an exhibitionist. He laughs softly. "Misha, please?" It's too dangerous, standing here—any time the door might open and their dirty little secret will no longer be a secret. "Please?"

Misha leans in, his lips warm and dry on Jensen's. "You told Clif, _five minutes_."

Jensen shifts to be able to slide his hand down Misha's hard cock. "I'm ready." He's still loose from the fuck he got this morning, Misha pounding into him for more than twenty minutes before he was allowed to come. He sends Misha a heavy-lidded look that says more than anything how much he wants it hard and fast and almost in public. That risk of exposure is going to make him come so fast that they'll probably be able to make it in five. Jensen bites his lip, looking all innocent, knowing it's driving Misha insane when he pretends not to be as wicked as he is. "Still wet and all. Your come..."

" _Dammit, Jen_!" It's all it takes before Misha grabs Jensen's arm, turning him around none too gently and almost shoves him into the cubicle at the farthest end of the room. Jensen supports himself, one hand on the wall, one on the toilet, dizzy from lust. He waits three seconds until he hears the click when Misha locks the door. Jensen closes the lid, kneeling on it as he opens his jeans. His cock is sensitive and damp at the tip, heavy and hard. Hissing as the warm skin brushes over the cold, white porcelain, Jensen pushes his jeans halfway to his knees. Then Misha is over him, yanking them down all the way, rough and eager. 

Misha grabs a handful of Jensen's hair, pulling him back against his chest. The sound of Misha's erratic breathing and the metallic rr-rr of his zipper makes Jensen lean back, his neck stretched in invitation. Misha moans again, licking at it. "Spread yourself," Misha demands, fumbling behind Jensen to pull out his cock. Misha's hand ghosts over Jensen's cheeks as he starts to jerk off slowly. "Come on, baby, let me see you."

Jensen loves that Misha enjoys looking at him so much. He likes the way Misha examines him, his face, his chest, his dick. His ass. All Misha's. Jensen does as he's told, pulling apart his cheeks for Misha to see everything. Jensen's breathing is shallow and sharp. "Please," he pants, wanting Misha in him so badly.

Misha doesn't waste any time. There's a rustle as he fiddles with the K.Y. Ten seconds later there is a insistent pressure against the rim of Jensen's hole. Taking a few deep breaths, Jensen relaxes as Misha pushes inside, slow enough not to truly hurt, but fast enough for Jensen to let out a deep moan. The traces of lube and come from their last fuck is enough, too, to let Misha move. Relentlessly slow Misha presses on, stopping only when he's in to the hilt. Jensen is biting his own hand as not to cry out from the sheer pleasure of it. He loves it when Misha is a bit brutal, as if he _owns_ Jensen, that he owns the right to do with him as he pleases. And as Jensen pleases. 

"Fuck me," Jensen groans. "Misha.... fuck me, just... come _on_!"

Outside, the soft hiss of the door being opened silences whatever reply Misha might have thought of, except for the only one he's still able to make. He pulls out slowly, then slams in hard, aware of how difficult it'll be for Jensen not to moan and reveal what they are doing. 

Both hands on the tiled wall, teeth buried in the soft flesh of his arm, Jensen tries not to make a sound when Misha starts pounding into him, hands dug into his hips. Misha fucks him hard, no finesse or care, just like Jensen wants it. Fucked, used, taken, owned. It's so arousing knowing that someone's just feet away, only a thin door separating them. Jensen gets off on the danger, on the risk he's taking. Naked cock, naked life. Caught up in the net of lust and love and arousal, he wishes that his heart could be out in the open as well. _Want you_ , he wants to tell Misha, but he can't, not with people so close. Instead Jensen reaches back, holding on to Misha's wrist, stroking the soft skin gently, contrasting with tenderness the urge of their quick and urgent lovemaking. _I love you_ , he wants to say, but he can't; only in the darkest night, in the most secret of hours he is able to tell Misha what he desires the most.

Rubbing his dick hard, needing the harshness to get off fast, Jensen lets Misha take him the way he likes, demanding Jensen's total surrender. Even here, in this confined room, in this confined space made from a few stolen minutes and years of secrets, Jensen offers Misha everything he wants, except for that one little thing that he'd denied Misha for too long.

Here, with Misha inside him, Jensen should think of nothing but pleasure, but in the heady, arousing mixture of exhibitionism and hot, rough sex, Jensen can't stop thinking that he's nothing but a coward. Another few thrusts from Misha makes Jensen forget for a little while.

The sound of flushing toilets provide the small sanctuary that they need, a sanctuary all made from sounds. Misha groans hoarsely, coming as he pounds Jensen's ass hard, his desperation and need turned into powerful thrusts. "Love you," Misha whispers, gasping for air, his words drowned out from others to hear by the sound of running water. He reaches around Jensen to help him get off before the sounds die out.

 _Me too,_ Jensen wants to say, riding the bliss of Misha's experienced touch. But Jensen can't, and the only thing holding him back is fear. He gasps, this time loudly. He knows it's too late to stop it now, his brain short-circuiting as Misha fucks into him with everything he has. "Misha," Jensen gasps, the name halfway muffled by Jensen's own hand. He's unzipping his defenses, lowering his weapons. He's vulnerable as he comes, trying to be quiet, but not hiding it. Then Misha groans out his orgasm, pulling Jensen up, kissing him in this awkwardly difficult angle that leaves them nothing but sloppy licking and the attempt at letting their lips meet by pure coincidence. 

As the sounds from outside die out, silence blessedly allowing them to speak, Misha wraps his arms around Jensen from behind, holding him tight as the last shivers of their shared orgasms go through them. 

"What was that about?" Misha whispers, his voice all hope-tinged and raw.

"Underwear," Jensen says cryptically while Misha pull out. Jensen turns and kisses his lover properly. "And about being naked. Exposed."

Misha, being Misha, has only one reply. "I get it."

Of course he does. He always does. He _gets_ Jensen. Maybe it's time that Jensen owns up and starts getting Misha too. He kisses Misha again, at the same time trying to clean up a bit. He's a mess. For once, it somehow doesn't bother him that he probably looks like as if he's just had hot and hurried sex in a toilet stall.

On the contrary. Jensen realizes that he wants people to know. He wants them to know that he is in love with Misha. He wants them to know that Misha isn't a dirty secret, not someone Jensen is ashamed of. No, Misha is his love, his lover, the only one he wants.

Misha unlocks the door, and they slip out quietly, for a moment pretending to be nothing to each other.

They wash their hands, their eyes meeting in the mirror above the sinks. "It's time," Jensen finally says, wanting Misha to be his someone. His only one. "Maybe tomorrow. I have people I need to speak to."

Misha's disbelief and happiness are brushing naked against the surface, part hidden and veiled by Misha staring back at him, eyelids heavy with need. "You don't have to-"

"Yes. I do."

The door to the corridor opens and Clif sticks his head in. "Guys?"

"Just a second, Clif. I think I need to kiss my boyfriend some more," Jensen says, pulling Misha close, kissing him softly on the mouth, leaving himself naked for everyone to see.


End file.
